University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

A prison.
Timanthes, Adrastus.
Timan.
Be silent—canst thou hope that Dirce dead,
Timanthes will prolong his hated life
By wedding with another? Why presum'st thou
To affront my constancy?

Adras.
'Tis she thou lov'st
Now speaks by me; yes, Dirce bids me say
That 'tis the last request she e'er shall make.

Timan.
Even the same love that urges her to ask,
Forbids me to comply.

Adras.
And yet—

Timan.
Enough.

Adras.
Reflect, my lord—

Timan.
Adrastus, 'tis in vain;
I'll hear no more.

Adras.
Compassion bids me try
All means to save thee from the fate that threatens.

Timan.
Who speaks to me of life becomes my foe.

Adras.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Timanthes
alone.
Why should we covet life? What are its charms,
For all degrees are wretched? Every state
Partakes of misery. In infancy
We tremble at a frown: in ripening youth
We are made the sport of Fortune and of Love:
In age we groan beneath the weight of years:
Now we are tormented with the thirst of gain,
And now the fear of loss: eternal war
The wicked with themselves maintain; the just
With fraud and envy. All our schemes are shadows,
Vain and illusive as a sick man's dream!
And when we but begin at last to know
Our life's whole folly, death cuts short the scene:
O then let death at once—

SCENE III.

Enter Cherinthus.
Cher.
My dearest prince!
Come to my breast.

[embraces him.
Timan.
What mean those looks compos'd,
When thus you press me with a last embrace?
Are these the tears due to a brother's death?

Cher.
What last embrace, what tears, what death, my brother?
Thou art now the happiest of mankind: our father
Forgets his indignation: all is past:
He gives thee back his former tenderness,
Thy spouse, thy son, thy liberty and life.

Timan.
O! hold, Cherinthus, even in pity hold;
Such mighty raptures flow too fast upon me:
Could I believe thee, sure my soul would faint
With vast excess of pleasure!

Cher.
Doubt it not;
My words are truth, Timanthes.

Timan.
Can it be!
What friendly power could change my father's anger,
When, parting from the temple, he resolv'd
On mine and Dirce's death?

Cher.
Such was his purpose;
And sure th'event had answer'd his resolve,
Since all but prov'd in vain to appease his wrath:
Even I, O prince! despair'd of safety for thee,
When to thy aid Creusa came—

Timan.
Creusa!
Creusa to my aid! she whom so late
My scorn offended?

Cher.
Yes, the same Creusa:
Thou dost not know, my brother, all the virtues
Of that exalted fair: what said she not,
What did she not to save thee! Thy deserts
How did she raise! How did she speak to excuse
Thy guilty rashness! Every means she tried
To waken nature in a parent's heart:
She made compassion, justice, public good,
And glory plead for thee: for his example
She shew'd herself offended yet forgiving,
And touch'd his breast with shame. Soon as I saw
The father's feelings warm'd by slow degrees,
I flew (so Heaven inspir'd) to seek thy Dirce.
I found her with Olinthus: instant both
I hurried thence; and set before the king
The mother and the son. This sight secur'd
Our victory: for whether age subsided,
Or that the affections of a parent now
Exerted all their power, the king forgot
His anger, rais'd his daughter from the ground,
Then strain'd the guiltless infant in his arms,
And mingled with the rest his pitying tears.

Timan.
O my lov'd brother! O my dearest father!
Cherinthus, let us fly with speed to seek him.

Cher.
Not so—he longs himself to bring thee first
The grateful tidings; 'twill offend him much
To see his fond design by me prevented.

Timan.
And has he then such kindness for a son
Who yet so little has deserv'd his love?
O how his goodness aggravates my crime!
With shame I own it now: could I at least
Discharge his promise to the Phrygian king:
But thou, Cherinthus, may'st—Then save his honour,
Give, in my stead, thy hand to fair Creusa,
And calm to peace a parent's sinking age.

Cher.
What say'st thou, prince?—yes, let me now confess it—
Creusa is the mistress of my fate,
I love her with the truest, tenderest passion—
But yet—

Timan.
But what!

Cher.
I ne'er must hope Creusa
Will deign to accept my hand: thou know'st she came
To espouse the kingdom's heir—but I am none.

Timan.
Is this the only bar?

Cher.
What needs there more
To oppose my happiness?

Timan.
Then go, Cherinthus,
Preserve my father's faith—thou art the heir.

Cher.
Who, I, my brother?

Timan.
Yes; thou would'st have been,
Had not thy virtue snatch'd me from destruction:
In yielding up my title to the throne,
I give thee back but part of what thou gav'st.

Cher.
Our father then—

Timan.
At least he shall not blush
To find his plighted faith to breach expos'd:
And can I less for such a father's peace?
What is a throne, compar'd with all the bliss
His goodness heaps upon me?

Cher.
Yet his loss
Is great who quits a crown.

Timan.
No, he who quits
A crown, has something left he prizes more.

Cher.
How glorious in thy gift I find,
The godlike virtues of thy mind!
I envy not the regal state,
But envy thee a soul so great.
Thou bid'st a thousand passions rise;
A thousand thoughts my heart surprise.
At once I joy and wonder prove,
And tender shame, and grateful love.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Timanthes
alone.
My son! my wife! dear pledges of my peace!
Part of myself! Is it then given me soon
Fearless to clasp you in my fond embrace?
And shall we then, without a future pang,
Together lead our lives? Transporting thought!
Now, now, I find that unexpected joy
Can sooner raise, than grief depress the soul.

SCENE V.

Enter Mathusius with a paper in his hand.
Mat.
O prince! my lord!

Timan.
Art thou indeed Mathusius?
If in yon' bark you stay'd for me in vain—

Mat.
Enough—the place thou art found in must excuse thee.

Timan.
How did'st thou gain access to me?

Mat.
Cherinthus
Procur'd me this admittance.

Timan.
Has he then
Told thee my happiness?

Mat.
No; with impatience
He broke from me, and flew I know not whither.

Timan.
O! I have wonders to relate, my friend!

Mat.
Perhaps thou may'st more wonders hear from me.

Timan.
Know, I'm this hour the happiest of mankind.

Mat.
Know, that this hour reveals a mighty secret.

Timan.
What secret?

Mat.
Hear, and own 'tis wondrous—Dirce
Is not my daughter; she's thy sister.

Timan.
Ha!
My sister!—sure thou mock'st me!

[disturbed.
Mat.
No, my prince,
I mock thee not; thou did'st with her partake
One common stock; one blood runs in your veins;
One father and one mother gave you birth.

Timan.
O peace! what hast thou said!—Forbid it Heaven!

[aside.
Mat.
This paper yields the certain proof—

Timan.
What paper?
O give it—

[with impatience.
Mat.
Hear me first; my wife, when dying,
Gave me this paper seal'd, and bade me swear
Never to open it, unless some danger
Should threaten Dirce.

Timan.
Wherefore, when the king
This day condemn'd her to the sacrifice,
Didst thou neglect it?

Mat.
Such a length of years
Elaps'd, had blotted it from my remembrance.

Timan.
What brought it now to mind?

Mat.
When late for flight
I gather'd all my treasures to the sea,
Amidst my hoard I found it.

Timan.
Let me view—

Mat.
Yet stay.

Timan.
O Heaven!

Mat.
Thou know'st my consort bore
Such faithful duty to the queen thy mother,
That whom in life she lov'd, in death she follow'd.

Timan.
I know it well.

Mat.
See'st thou this regal signet?

Timan.
I do.

Mat.
Observe this writing; mark it well;
Know'st thou the queen's own hand?

Timan.
I do—no more—
Distract me not!

Mat.
Now read.

[gives the paper.
Timan.
My trembling heart!
[reads.
“Dirce is not the daughter of Mathusius,
“But springs from royal race, to me she owes
“Her birth, and claims Demophoon for her father.
“By what event her fortune has been chang'd,
“Another secret paper must disclose;
“Let this be sought for in the houshold temple,
“Beneath the sacred footstool of the God,
“To which the king alone must dare approach.
“Meantime let this suffice to prove her birth,
“A queen confirms it with her oath.

“Argea.”

Mat.
Thou tremblest, prince! Sure this is more than wonder!
Why spreads that deadly paleness o'er thy face?

Timan.
Almighty powers! what dreadful stroke is this!

[aside.
Mat.
Now tell me, prince, the happiness you boasted,
Let me at least—

Timan.
Leave me, Mathusius, leave me.

Mat.
Why art thou troubled thus? thou'st gain'd a sister,
And say is that so great a cause of sorrow?

Timan.
Leave me, in pity leave me to myself!

Mat.
How strangely various are the minds of men!
The same event that fills one breast with joy,
Distracts another with the pangs of grief.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Timanthes
alone.
Ah! wretch! what coldness freezes at my heart!
What dreadful aspect does my fate assume!
I see, I see the source of all my woes;
The wrath of Heaven pursued the unlawful nuptials.
My hairs stand up with horror! What am I!
What is the king!—Behold Olinthus now,
Nephew and son! Dirce my wife and sister!
Detested mixture, most unnatural kindred!
Fly, fly, Timanthes, hide thee from mankind.
Each hand will point at thee—thou now must prove
Thy aged father's curse! How will thy story
Be made the sport of fame! Unhappy Thrace,
Behold thy Œdipus! in me behold
The furies here renew'd of Thebes and Argos.
O! that these eyes had never gaz'd on Dirce!
What then I deem'd the violence of love
Was but the voice of nature—I'm become
A monster to myself! The light grows hateful!
Each breath affrights me, earth appears to sink
Beneath my trembling feet!—methinks I hear
Ten thousand thunders round me, while my crime
With every object glares upon my sight!

SCENE VII.

Enter from different parts Creusa, Demophoon, Adrastus leading Olinthus by the hand, and Dirce.
Creu.
Timanthes—

Timan.
Princess! ah! pursue me not—
Leave, leave me to myself.

Demo.
My dearest son.

Timan.
Ah! no—I must not hear that tender name.

Creu.
Perhaps thou know'st not—

Timan.
O! I know too much.

Demo.
Receive this fond embrace, thy pledge of pardon:
But say why dost thou shun thy father's arms?

Timan.
I dare not look on thee—

Creu.
What can this mean?

Demo.
What has befallen thee?—

Adras.
See! behold your son:
Be comforted, my lord.

Timan.
Take hence, Adrastus,
Take hence that child, O! bear him from my sight.

Dir.
My much-lov'd lord!—

Timan.
Begone, avoid me, Dirce.

Dir.
And wilt thou drive me from thee on this day
Of general joy?

Timan.
Where shall I fly to hide me!

[going.
Dir.
O hold!

Demo.
Yet hear me!

Creu.
Stay—

Timan.
'Tis all in vain;
You seek to ease, and stab me to the heart.

Demo.
But say, whom fly'st thou from?

Timan.
From men and Gods!
From you and from myself—

Dir.
And whither go'st thou?

Timan.
Where the sun never shines, where nothing lives,
Where my remembrance may be lost for ever!

Demo.
Think on thy father.

Adras.
On thy son—

Dir.
Thy wife—

Timan.
O speak not thus! Wife, father, son and brother,
Are names endearing to a mind at peace;
To me they are sounds of horror.

Creu.
Say the cause.

Timan.
Seek not to know it—drown me in oblivion.

Dir.
By those dear moments when I pleas'd thee first—

Timan.
Dirce, forbear—

Dir.
By all those solemn ties—

Timan.
O hold, in pity hold!

Dir.
If thou no more
Regard'st thy wife, at least thy son may move thee:
Look on him—'tis the same that oft has touch'd
Thy breast with tenderness: look on him still;
'Tis thy own blood—

Timan.
Would Heaven he were not so!

Dirce.
What crime could he commit that thus thou shunn'st him?
Why dost thou turn away thy face—O see,
See how he reaches out his little hands,
And speaks to thee with smiles of innocence!

Timan.
Ah! couldst thou now be sensible of that
Which, hapless boy! thou must hereafter know,
Thou wouldst not thus with fondness hover round me!

[Exit.

SCENE VIII.

Demophoon, Creusa, Dirce, Adrastus, Olinthus.
Demo.
Adrastus, follow him— [Exit Adrastus, Olinthus is led off by an attendant.]
Who can inform me,
Amidst you all, what my Timanthes means,
If frenzy or despair possess his mind?
But wherefore do ye gaze with wonder on me,
Yet speechless stand! O could I but discover
What evil threatens, that my soul might stand
Prepar'd to meet the worst. Almighty powers!
Give me at least to know this secret danger.

[Exit.

SCENE IX.

Creusa, Dirce.
Creu.
Say, Dirce, wherefore seem'st thou thus unmov'd,
When, with thy husband, thou art made the theme
Of every tongue?—Go—seek him, learn the cause—
Thou hear'st me not—Why are thy languid eyes
Cast down to earth?—Shake off this lethargy.
'Tis madness to reject a friendly counsel:
If more thou canst not—give thy sorrows vent,
At least lament aloud and break this silence.

Dirce.

[Exit.

SCENE X.

Creusa
alone.
What unbless'd region's this! why am I come
To share in others' griefs? How many evils
Has one unhappy day produc'd? Contention
Between a son and father! Human victims,
Polluted temples, and ill-omen'd nuptials!
There wanted but the fear of unknown ills
To make these woes complete. The wrath of Fate
Is sure too mighty to continue long;
It must relent: in such distressful fortune,
Hope oft again revives from mere despair.

[Exit.

SCENE XI.

An apartment in the Palace, magnificently decorated for the nuptials of Creusa.
Timanthes, Cherinthus.
Timan.
And whither, cruel, would'st thou lead me now?
These splendid shows of pomp and joy augment
The pangs of one abandon'd to despair.

Cher.
Methinks no longer I discern my brother:
What means this weakness so unworthy of thee?
If thou hast err'd, thou knew'st it not: 'tis true
Thou art unhappy, but not criminal.
All, all misfortunes may be lightly borne,
When the soul feels not guilt.

Timan.
By deeds alone
The world directs its censure; and when deeds
Condemn us, reason tries in vain to absolve.
But I'm too guilty; or if ignorance
Extenuates my offence, I'm criminal
In daring still to live; and yet I never
Can banish Dirce hence; I feel I love her,
I know I ought not: but, alas! so soon
How can I hope to break the tender ties,
Cast off the lover, husband and the father?
Dissolve an union, dearer by misfortune;
Forget our faith, obliterate the remembrance
Of pleasures long enjoy'd? O Heaven! Cherinthus,
Leave me, in pity leave me; let me die,
Ere yet a greater guilt—

SCENE XII.

Enter Adrastus.
Adras.
The king, Timanthes,
Seeks thee in every part; but now I saw him
With old Mathusius quit the houshold temple.
A pleasure seems to brighten either's looks;
For thee alone they ask.

Timan.
O! let me fly!
Too much I dread to meet a father's sight!

SCENE XIII.

Enter Mathusius.
Mat.
My son! my dearest son!

[embracing Timanthes.
Timan.
To me that name!
Ha! wherefore! say?

Mat.
Because thou art my son,
And I—I am thy father!

Timan.
Sure thou dream'st!

SCENE XIV.

Enter Dirce leading Olinthus.
Timan.
O! Heaven! Is Dirce here?

Dir.
Fly not, my lord,
Nor fear in me a sister.

Timan.
You deceive me,
To calm the tumult of my wounded thoughts!

SCENE XV.

Enter Demophoon attended.
Demo.
Thou art not deceiv'd, Timanthes; all is true.

Timan.
O to betray me now were cruelty!

Demo.
Yet be compos'd; for know thou art not my son.
Thou, when an infant, wert exchang'd for Dirce:
I am her father, and Mathusius thine.
My consort begg'd thee of Mathusius' wife;
For then she deem'd the public weal concern'd
In this exchange: but when Cherinthus next
Was born, too late she saw the rash design
Had of succession robb'd her rightful son.
To me she durst not tell the mighty secret,
She found already thou had'st gain'd too much
On my affection: but at length, reduc'd
To life's extremest verge, she left the story
Reveal'd in two mysterious papers; one
She gave her friend, and that Mathusius shew'd thee;
The other she conceal'd, and that thou here
Beholdest.

Timan.
Wherefore did she not in one
Disclose the mystery?

Demo.
Because she meant
The first should only prove the birth of Dirce.
It there suffic'd to swear she was her daughter.
The secret of thy fate was kept for me;
That I might act as best the time requir'd,
Or to divulge, or keep it still unknown.
For this the second paper she dispos'd,
Where I alone could ever have access.

Timan.
Such strange events still hold my mind in doubt.

Demo.
Too certain are the proofs: behold the writing
Where all I have declar'd is told at full.

Timan.
O Fortune! do not once again deceive me!

[takes the paper and reads.
SCENE LAST.
Enter Creusa.
Creu.
May I, my lord! believe the joyful tidings
That echo through the palace?

Demo.
Princess, yes:
See there thy husband. I have pledg'd my faith
To wed thee to my son, and kingdom's heir;
And in Cherinthus now receive them both.

Cher.
The change may prove ungrateful to Creusa.

Creu.
In vain we hope to avoid what Heaven decrees.

Cher.
And wilt thou not confess thou lov'st Cherinthus?

Creu.
My deeds shall speak my thoughts.

Timan.
And was it me
The oracle declar'd? Was I the unknown,
The innocent usurper?

Demo.
Yes, thou wert.
The clouds are now dispell'd; the kingdom stands
Deliver'd from the annual sacrifice;
And to the rightful heir the crown returns.
I shall preserve, without the means of rigour,
My faith unbroken to the Phrygian king:
Cherinthus shall possess his lov'd Creusa:
She shall a sceptre gain; and thou may'st now
Securely clasp thy Dirce. Not a cause
For grief remains, and all this wondrous maze
Of mystic Fate, these papers have reveal'd.

Timan.
O! happy papers! fortunate Timanthes!
Ye powers! from what a dreadful weight I feel
My soul disburden'd! O my son! my wife!
Come to my bosom: now I can embrace you
Without the fear of guilt!

Dir.
Transporting hour!

[kneels.
Creu.
What moving tenderness!

Timan.
Most just of kings!
Once more behold me at your feet: forgive
The wild excesses of despairing love;
Believe me, when I swear it, you shall find me
More duteous as your subject than your son.

Demo.
Rise, thou art still my son, still call me father;
Such, while I live, thou'lt find me: till this hour
Our love was duty, henceforth be it choice.
A stronger tie shall our affections bind
Than Nature's ties, the instinctive work of Fate.

Chorus.
Good fortune most delights mankind,
That steals upon us, when the mind
Can scarce its griefs sustain.
What mortal bliss can prove sincere,
Since, to be great, our pleasures here
Must have their source in pain!